


Twenty Four Hours on the Scoville Scale

by Polly_Phemus (orphan_account)



Series: Dom Down the Hall [4]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Aftercare, Alternate Universe - BDSM, Masochism, Pain Management
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-11
Updated: 2017-06-11
Packaged: 2018-11-12 08:27:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11158062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Polly_Phemus
Summary: Misha visits to make sure Jared's okay and my God do they talk a lot.  And not just about Jensen.





	Twenty Four Hours on the Scoville Scale

**Author's Note:**

> There is a brief reference to past marijuana experimentation that didn't go so great and is in no way based on the personal experience of the author or anyone known to her.
> 
> The Scoville Scale is used to rate the spiciness of food in general and chili peppers in particular. Guatemalan Insanity Peppers (or, to use their correct name, Quetzalacatenango peppers) are fictional (from "The Simpsons") and are proven to be so spicy that they induce hallucinations. The other peppers mentioned in the story are real, but their Scoville ratings have been simplified: the rating for any pepper is usually expressed as a range, so Scotch Bonnets, for example, can go anywhere from 100,000-350,000 depending on the individual specimen.

Jared woke up with an ass that had to be at least a half million Scovilles. Not quite Guatemalan Insanity Pepper, but definitely past Scotch Bonnet levels. Groaning, he picked up his phone from the pillowcase where he'd dropped it. It was unpleasantly damp.

"Shit, did I drool on this thing?" Jared grumbled. Not that he really cared; he just wanted to know what time it was. 6:00 p.m. Not bad, but he still felt pretty tired. He checked his messages; there were dozens, but he was only looking for one from Misha, which he found quickly. It was time stamped 2:30 p.m., not that long after Osric had dropped him off.

"I'm in ur living room, drinkin ur tea." Then there was 2:45 p.m.: "I'm in ur woods, walkin ur dogz." Then the first message was repeated at 3:05, the second at 5:30, with a final repeat of the first at 5:45 p.m.

If all Misha was doing was drinking his tea, he was lucky. Jared remembered the time Misha had poured like half a bottle of kefir all over his own face and Jared's kitchen floor. It was not his fondest memory of his friendship with Misha.

Jared hoisted himself from the bed, found the softest sweats he owned, attended to business related to excessive sports drink consumption, and went out into his living room to find Misha doing yoga in front of the wall of windows on the south side of Jared's apartment. Misha loved doing yoga with a view. At least this time he was wearing pants.

"Hey, how's your ass?" Misha said without looking around. Jared noticed that he'd shoved his view-appreciation chairs aside and put down some large cushions, presumably in deference to Jared's delicate condition.

"Eh, down to about a Red Amazon." Cardy bounced up to Jared, putting his paws on Jared's knees. Zucchini approached more cautiously, although if that was out of personal concern or general laziness, Jared would never know. He lavished love on his babies.

"Refresh my memory?"

"75,000 Scovilles. It's actually a dried, and therefore more concentrated, Tabasco. Right after, I was at Habanero, so down about 25K."

"Nice," Misha said. "You groovin' on the pain yet?"

"A little," Jared admitted. His Masochism Index Level was well known to Misha and, really, all of his friends, ever since he'd sprained his wrist while rollerblading and gotten noticeably erect on the trip to the ER. "But it's weird," he added.

"Because this was punishment?"

"Yeah. I feel like I shouldn't be eroticizing it."

"Well, they let you take Tylenol and put lotion on it, right? So it's not like they're totally anti-pain management after the fact."

"I guess, but still," Jared said, wandering over to the fridge to get yet more sports drink. "Anyway, I've got company."

"I can take off if you want alone time for...pain management," Misha offered. From anyone else, it would've sounded sleazy, but from Misha, it was a matter-of-fact offer made out of courtesy

"Nah, I'm handling it," Jared said, sprawling out on a cushion, leaning on his left side. "It's just...the whole thing is really weird. A few days ago, I was all, 'Man, that dom down the hall is hot' and now I've actually met him, fed him, and am probably going on a date with him."

"And gotten your ass smacked by him," Misha said. "And what's this 'probably' crap? When did you become a pessimist?"

"When I realized that I lead the kind of life where the only way I can talk to a hot dom is if I'm in legal trouble and motivated by extreme financial panic."

"Ah."

"Plus...the ass smacking. He's seen me naked and everything. Worse than that, even. Naked except for a cock cage!"

"Cock cages," Misha sighed dreamily.

"Yeah, yeah, you're a well-known pervert, but...."

"You were glad you had one, weren't you?"

"Well, duh. Who knows what the hell is gonna happen down there when shit gets real like that? It wasn't just Jensen, either. The medic, Ms. Harris, is Jensen-level hot, and Osric seems to be just the sweetest dom ever."

"Osric?"

"Mr. Chau, the intern. He was really nice. All of them were. Concerned, professional and when Ms. Harris helped me off the bench and into my chair, I was ready to offer them all favors of an inappropriately intimate nature."

"How inappropriate?" Misha wanted to know.

"Oral gratification to completion at the very least."

"All of them, not just Jensen?"

"Yeah, but really and most especially Jensen."

"The twenty-four hour rule really sounds more and more sensible with every word you utter and every strand of hair you twirl."

"Oh, my God," Jared breathed. He really had been fiddling with his hair. Self-consciously, he pulled his hand off his head and reached for the sports drink.

"And in two days you've gotten on a first name basis with two different doms," Misha said. "Our little boy is growing up."

"Oh, shut up," Jared said grumpily. 

"About this, for now, I will," Misha said. "To change the subject, and perhaps the scenery, maybe we should get the kids outdoors? I just walked them, but I think all of us would benefit from the sun, the breeze and the scent of freshly cut grass."

Once they were outside, shoes kicked off to maximize the late spring goodness of the lawn between Jared's apartment building and the woods beyond, Misha checked up on the state of Jared's ass.

"Holding steady at Amazon Red," Jared reported. 

"And the rest of Jared Padalecki?"

"Actually, I feel pretty good. Tired. Afterward, I got to catharsis, actually."

"Wow," Misha said as he snapped the Frisbee across the lawn toward Cardy. "That's actually a thing, then?"

"Yeah," Jared said. "I sort of remember it from civics in high school. Like, taking responsibility and getting the corporal are for society and justice, and contrition and catharsis are for the offenders."

"Hee, you're an offender! Jar-ed is of-fen-sive," Misha chanted softly. "And Cardy's a good dog," he said in completely different tone as Cardy returned with the Frisbee. 

"See, that's just it, it's like a PSA or something: I'm not an offender anymore. It's done with, over, finished, in the rearview mirror, history like a solved mystery. The residents, well the ones who keep kosher anyway, wrote the nicest letter and they all signed it and everything."

"Even our beloved, ever-stand-offish Ms. Wilson?"

"She actually wrote it. I thought she hated seeing a sub with as much responsibility as I've got, but she thinks I'm doing a good job." Jared thought for a moment. "Actually, in the letter she said that she was so impressed by my actions because I was acting well beyond my years. Nothing about being 'surprising for a sub' or any of that shit."

Misha waved the Frisbee at Zucchini, who looked like she wasn't all that into it but was willing to humor him. Misha flung it, lazy and slow, for her to wander after.

"So maybe she's a reverse-ageist instead of the dynamicist you always thought she was?"

"Could be," Jared said. "I kind of like being looked down on for my age rather than for my dynamic. I'm gonna get older and more experienced, after all, but I'm never not gonna be a sub."

"Hmm," Misha said and left it at that. Jared didn't always feel comfortable talking about dynamics with Misha; although he was legally a sub, he considered himself a "switch," someone who could move between submissive and dominant depending on the situation and who he was with. Most of the world thought "switch" was a make-believe identity claimed only by utter flakes. Jared thought that, while Misha was undeniably a flake in some regards, there was probably something to this whole "switch" business. Not that he would ever be anything but submissive, but he'd known Misha long enough to take him at his word on his dynamic. But Jared figured that, it must be hard for him to live in a sort of dynamic limbo that most people didn't even acknowledge was a thing and then have to listen to his friends complain about issues related to being basically quite secure in their own identity. So Jared figured it was largely better to try to keep being too obnoxious about his own cisdynamic status.

"So, Mary Lincoln, other than the beating, how's your week going? After all, you finally got to meet 12G," Misha said, kneeling to conduct a nonverbal discussion with Zucchini over the Frisbee. Misha wanted it back, but Zucchini clearly believed that surrendering it would simply lead to it being thrown again just so she'd have to retrieve it. 

"Jensen," Jared said.

"You are such a tweeny-bopper when you say his name," Misha said, his tone rather more approving than not. "Look, Zucchini Blossom, if you give me the Frisbee, I will stop pestering you for it, so that's one less thing you have to worry about in life. Furthermore, I promise I'll only pass it to Cardy for the rest of our time here, so there you go: all of your life obstacles have been overcome!"

Zucchini let Misha have the Frisbee and he sailed it Cardy's way.

"If tweeny-bopper is a really a word, it does describe me," Jared admitted. "I mean, I have the degree and the job and the mortgage and all, but when it comes to dating, I might as well be twelve."

"What about all those loser doms your mom made you go out with?"

"Okay, fourteen maybe. But no serious relationships and very little in the way of physical activity. Do doms even want virgins anymore?"

"Who cares what 'doms' want?" Misha asked. "You don't. You just care about what Jensen wants."

"It's true," Jared sighed. Misha made a "there you go" gesture.

"And if Jensen is deeply concerned about sexual experience, or the lack of it, either as a deal-breaker or maker, then he's an asshole and you don't want him," Misha said confidently. "Last time, Cardy," he bellowed across the lawn. Cardy immediately started running in circles rather than stop the fun. If Zucchini had access to a watch, she'd have been checking it.

"Come on, Zucchini, outside is your friend," Jared cajoled. "I swear, you are the most indoor being I've ever met."

"I bet you could get her a box and some litter and train her like a cat," Misha said. Cardy finally came back with the Frisbee and a stick. "Ah, there you are. And you brought me something pretty," Misha cooed.

"And yeah, I don't want him if he's weird about virgins. Or career subs. Or domestic discipline," Jared said. "But I basically don't want him to be weird about those things."

"I think you watched too many Lifetime Originals when you were younger," Misha said as they started to walk back to Jared's building.

"Not you, too," Jared groaned. "You're like my mother. 'You'll get unrealistic expectations about relationships from that junk, Jared. You'll set your standards too high and nobody but Dack Rambo will do'."

This comparison to Jared's mom brought Misha up short.

"Dack Rambo?"

Okay, maybe it wasn't the parental comparison that confused MIsha.

"He was this dom actor my dad was way into," Jared explained. "Like, it was a joke between my parents that he was my dad's dream dom and if he ever came knocking, Mom would have to have knock-down drag-out fight him to keep Dad from volunteering to be kidnapped."

"Wow. I can't imagine your mom joking about something like that."

"She does have a sense of humor, you know. Anyway, she has said on more than one occasion that she likes the idea of Robert Vaughn naked on a leash she's holding."

"Good God," Misha exclaimed, sounding as close to shocked as he ever got. "Are your parents necrophiliacs or something?"

"Come on, they grew up in different times in all sorts of ways," Jared laughed. "Anyway, this conversation has gotten way off topic."

"I hadn't noticed," Misha said.

"'Course you haven't," Jared scoffed. "You're too busy planning to make out with that stick to keep track."

"I think you do not understand the meaning of the term 'pansexual.' It means I am potentially attracted to all adult humans, regardless of sex or dynamic, not that I'm sexually attracted to the entire universe."

"You are totally in love with the entire universe," Jared insisted. "You want to pledge yourself to it."

"Oh, well, if you mean it that way," Misha said, "I made that commitment years ago. But I don't want to have sex with it or every single molecule of it."

They carried the conversation over through the lobby, into the elevator, and eventually into Jared's apartment.

"Okay, now we can talk about Jensen again," Misha said as soon as Jared locked the door behind them, interrupting his own monologue about how he was pretty sure Tom Cruise thought he was pulling off the greatest con job in the history of dynamic affectation in the world, but was fooling absolutely nobody.

"My God, was all that random babble actually clever camouflage?"

"I never dispense random babble," Misha said loftily as he poured them each a ginger ale. "My blather always has a reason for being."

"That's a bigger lie than Tom Cruise's dynamic presentation," Jared said. "You just didn't want me to embarrass myself by going on and on about Jensen in public." Jared paused. "Thank you for that," he added.

"De nada," Misha said. "Now you can get as swoony as you want while I heat up dinner."

Jared set his ginger ale on the floor next to the window so he could flop onto a cushion with no unfortunate spillage.

"There's dinner?"

"If you like. In fact, it's Super Surprise Dinner."

"What's that? You didn't let your weirdo roommate bake something odd into a casserole, did you?"

"God, that made you so sick," Misha remembered fondly. "I've never seen anyone get nauseated from marijuana before. We felt pretty bad about it, after talking you into trying it. Usually, people use it to avoid that."

"Contrarian to the core," Jared said. "Plus, it was better I found out about it in the company of friends. But seriously: what's the big surprise about dinner?"

"The Super Surprise is that I stopped by Atlanta Pines today, on my alleged day of rest."

"So they got an extra yoga class?"

"That, too, but it was at their request. Harry Alexander gave the kitchen his grandmother's chicken and dumpling soup recipe."

"No! He treasures that like his very own flesh and blood."

"Well, in a way it is. Not that he's a chicken, but it was his grandmother's big legacy. And he had Mr. Gold copy it out for the staff. He didn't give them the sacred parchment itself."

"The staff?"

"The kitchen staff. Coraline feels really bad about not noticing what Dick was doing."

"Dave," Jared corrected Misha on the name of the dishwasher who was lazy about everything but being a total asshole.

"I say he's a Dick and I say the hell with him," Misha countered. "Anyway, they followed the recipe and now there is healing soup in your fridge. Also, Boss Lady Griffin gave me a big box of sample products for you to play with until you go back on Wednesday, but she stressed that it's only in case you get bored and want some distraction. She doesn't expect a report on them until...whenever it is you do those things. She also sent along a complete DVD set of 'Wonder Sub,' you know, TV from the seventies, in case that was a more attractive entertainment option. I don't think she expects a report on those at all, although she does want them back at some point."

"Holy cow, I haven't seen that in ages. And never all the way through. I was always more about the print stuff."

"Okay, so you got a letter, precious chicken soup, complete with recipe card attached, 'Wonder Sub' DVDs...you need any more proof that you're shriven and forgiven?"

"Actually, I already felt that way. Now it's just getting embarrassing." 

"Are you too proud to eat the soup?"

"Hell no."

Misha went into the kitchen to attend to the soup. Jared looked out the window, easily picking Jensen's work building from the skyline. He'd been pretty wrapped up in his own stuff since he'd left, but now he wondered if Jensen was still at work or at home. Was he thinking about Jared at all? He must be, Jared reasoned, if only from a professional standpoint. He literally didn't administer discipline every day, at least not in a professional capacity (hopefully not in any capacity). So Jared must've been a novel variation on his routine at least. And if the twenty-four hour rule was there for both their sakes, maybe Jensen was, wherever he was, thinking about Jared as more than just a oddity in his day. Maybe he was even worried about Jared.

Jared frowned. He didn't like to think that Jensen was too concerned or even anxious, especially since Jared himself was basically fine. Everyone knew how protective doms could be even toward subs they didn't even know...in the nineties, his own hardass mother had taken Sub Princess Diana's side over Dom Prince Charles's while his dad had been a bit less sympathetic toward the vulnerable celebrity royal. And Jensen seemed to like Jared and had had to beat his ass into a black-and-blue burger without much of a how-do-you-do and then promise to keep away for twenty-four hours. 

Except...Jared looked at his phone. 1:30 p.m. on Saturday was now only seventeen hours away. By the time Jensen would be allowed to call him, Jared's ass would hopefully be down to Cayenne. Now all he had to do was take care of himself and not obsess over Jensen.

"Hey, Misha, do you think I should save the 'Wonder Sub' DVDs for later in case Jensen wants to join me for a pre-movie marathon?"

"Oh, good night in the morning!" Misha exclaimed from the kitchen. "Why don't you just get a Wonder Sub costume and wear it around town?"

Thoughtfully, Jared picked up his phone again and brought up Google. Not that he would literally wear that outfit around town, but maybe....

Jared sighed. He was building too much out of too little. Sure, Jensen had been the first one to mention "Wonder Sub" (although to a colleague) but a mutual love of one superhero wasn't something to base an entire relationship on. 

"No costume," he muttered to himself. He looked dreamily out at the Atlanta skyline. "At least, not yet," he amended.

**Author's Note:**

> It is extremely important to note that when I was looking for someone for Jared's mom to have a celebrity crush on, I googled "pretty boy actors" and Jensen Ackles is search engine optimized for that term. I went with someone else for obvious reasons: Jensen Ackles is totally the wrong age range for Jared's mom, who likes 'em older.


End file.
